


Tfw You Whip the Wrong Person and Wild Consequences happen

by Merlioske



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Arthur taking care of Merlin, BAMF! Arthur, Bamf! Merlin, Canon Era, Established Relationship, Good Morgana (Merlin), Happy Ending, Healing Magic, Hurt Merlin, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Merlioske-friendly, Prince Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Uther being Uther, Yes meaning sex magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:22:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28599900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merlioske/pseuds/Merlioske
Summary: Merlin was never one for holding his tongue. Especially in the face of lies. Especially when said lies put one, very specific /Prince/ in danger.or Arthur's in danger, Merlin goes ape-shit and screeches too loud and Uther Does an Uther.CoNsEqUeNcEs follow.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 28
Kudos: 330
Collections: Merlin Tiny Reverse Bang, Merthur Fics





	Tfw You Whip the Wrong Person and Wild Consequences happen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sunfall_of_Ennien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunfall_of_Ennien/gifts).



> this slammed into me with the force of a freight train as soon as i laid eyes on this absolutely gorgeous art done by none other than my beloved [Sunfall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunfall_of_Ennien/pseuds/Sunfall_of_Ennien) so all the thank yous to her and her absolutely stunning piece!
> 
> i hope i did it justice~
> 
> as always, my biggest of thank yous to the magnificent [Pelydryn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pelydryn/pseuds/Pelydryn) for a gorgeous beta job. <333

~x~

**Crack.**

Merlin’s sharp inhale was his only outwards reaction. He wasn’t willing, nor inclined, to offer anything more. Instead of paying any mind to the whip connecting to his shoulders and back over and over and _over_ again, Merlin was busy coming up with a plan of action. 

**Crack.**

**__** _“Please, your majesty, I beg of you to listen! He’s in danger, I---”_

_“Silence, boy! How dare you even insinuate---”_

_“I’m not insinuating anything! I’m stating it as fact, Lord Brendwick has betrayed you and Arthur---”_

_“How dare you show such disrespect!”_

**Crack.**

Uther’s hand had to be growing tired by now, after all when was the last time the king had visited the training field for more than a glance-by observation…?

**Crack.**

**__** _“With all due respect, Your Majesty… But I never would have believed that you’d allow your servants talk to you this ---”_

_“No,” Merlin, who, apparently, had lost the last dregs of his already minimal self-preservation had hissed. “I am not **his** servant.”_

_The throne room had fallen into a silence that was suffocating beyond words. Even Morgana, who had been muttering fervently into Uther’s ear, had gone quiet. Gwen, standing stock-still behind her mistress, had her hand across her mouth, begging Merlin with her eyes to -don’t, please please, just... **don’t** \- but Merlin was beyond keeping his silence now. His Prince was gone, was missing, was in danger and the king wouldn’t listen and what did it even matter then?_

_“I am the servant of the Crown Prince.”_

**Crack.**

It shouldn’t have been morbidly funny, Merlin reflected -- unable to contain the winces any longer -- the whole whipping thing. He doubted he’d ever be able to look at their favorite whip the same way again. Merlin bit down a snort and breathed out through his mouth. There was a line of cold trickling down his spine. He sighed. Unable to force out a scream, the king seemed to have gotten frustrated, his already poor technique dropping into the appalling levels. He had broken skin.

 _Arthur won’t be pleased_ , Merlin managed to think before another resounding crack reverberated through his body. 

**Crack.**

**__** _Arthur loathed seeing Merlin hurt, **truly** hurt. Always had. His eyes would turn icy and hard like steel and--- oh, how it made Merlin’s head spin and his heart race, seeing his Prince all protective and---_

**Crack**.

Merlin would _not_ scream. He bowed his head low, leaning his forehead against the smooth wooden pole he was tied to and breathed. _Depending on when he stops, I might get on the road as soon as, say, mid-evening. That’d leave me with---_

Merlin’s inner musings were interrupted by a blessedly familiar voice.

"Your Majesty! It's His Highness. He's returned."

Merlin inhaled sharply and tried to focus through the throbbing of his back. It sounded like Leon.

"And?” The king of Camelot demanded sharply, peeved not only by the stubbornness of his son’s servant but by the interruption of his punishment as well.

"He's alone, Your Majesty. I've sent guards to arrest Lord Brendwick on his command." Leon’s voice was stone cold and carried far less deference than it usually held while addressing the king.

"What?!?" Uther screeched, sounding mortified, and Merlin bit the inside of his cheek to stifle a snort.

"His Highness is waiting in the throne room, Your Majesty. I tried to talk him into first visiting the physician, but---" Leon started, frustrated notes infiltrating his voice now, and the news made Merlin bristle - of bloody course his bloody prat would refuse the physician, _by the gods if he’s hurt_ … Merlin fumed internally, wishing Uther would just _leave_ already, so he could make sure his Prince was all right.

"He's hurt?!?" Uther damn near howled, making Merlin wince at the volume.

"They were ambushed, sire." Leon's gaze trailed to the bound, silent and bleeding form of a servant over the king's shoulder, his eyes widening in alarm. "Merlin was right about everything."

Uther dropped the whip, turned on his heel and left without another word, his cape swishing menacingly behind him.

Leon waited only as long as Uther’s steps were loud enough to be heard and then rushed to Merlin's side immediately.

"Merlin?"

"...is he?" The words were so soft, barely above a whisper.

Leon leaned in, hands going instantly to the binding on Merlin's wrists. "What was that, Merlin, I couldn't hear---"

"How is he?" Merlin grunted, beginning to collapse as soon as his arms were free.

Leon was very careful in how he caught him, not quite able to hide the wince upon looking at the mangle that was his friend’s back.

"Hey, the king---" a guard started, finally cluing in to what Leon was doing.

"Will be too concerned with his son's injuries and the betrayal within his court to issue a pardon to an innocent man. A man, who will die without the care of a physician. A man who also, incidentally, is the one to thank that our Crown Prince is back at all." Leon's eyes sparked with unbridled fury then, and the guard took a step back instinctively. "Do you want to be the one to let him know that his most loyal subject succumbed to his undeserved injuries under _your_ watch?"

The guard didn’t utter another word, stepping aside wordlessly and allowing Leon to pass, a barely conscious Merlin at his side.

“...chambers.”

Leon sighed. “Yes, Merlin, I’m taking you straight to Gaius’ chambers.”

“No,” Merlin didn’t raise his head, too busy making sure to move one foot in front of the other. Now that he wasn’t focusing on making up a plan to save his Prince, he was forced into the reality that a punishment whipping hurt one hell of a lot. Especially one done in true, genuine anger, with the _intent_ to hurt. To maim. He closed his eyes when the floor swam before him. “Not Gaius’. Arthur’s.”

“What, no, Merlin, that’s---” Leon tried to protest, but Merlin interrupted him with a minute shake of his head. He knew he had to speak quickly, he could feel himself falling into unconsciousness already.

“Leon. Arthur’s. Please.” He wanted to explain. Wanted to tell Leon that he had all the things he needed to take care of this in Arthur’s chambers anyway. Wanted to tell Leon that Arthur, upon learning what had happened, would move him anyway. Wanted, but… well.

Leon heaved a long-suffering sigh. “The two of you… honestly. Fine. On your heads be it.”

Merlin tried to smile, hoped he succeeded, had to admit he probably didn’t. He was just so damn tired all of a sudden. Merlin closed his eyes, just for a second.

When he attempted to open them next, the first thing he noted was the smell. Which was comforting in a way not many other things were. Merlin didn’t bother opening his eyes then, snuggling deeper into Arthur’s pillow instead.

“Merlin?” The voice was quiet, careful. “Are you awake?” Merlin tried to answer. Tried to open his eyes after all. “Love?” Merlin frowned; the voice sounded damn near tortured. He tried to open his mouth again, the need to reassure the voice stifling.

“Hng.” Merlin decided that was sufficient enough an answer and promptly passed out again.

The second time he floated close enough to the surface of waking, Merlin could have sworn he heard muted yelling. It sounded a lot like Arthur. He sounded furious. A lot. Merlin frowned. Merlin slept.

The third time, he was coaxed into consciousness by soft, beyond gentle touches. There were cool, slick fingers, stroking over his back and coating his wounds in a healing-smelling salve. There was also a quiet, lovely humming that wrapped all around him, feeling like a warm embrace. Merlin smiled as he fell deeper into sleep that time.

~x~

In the end, it took Merlin three days to wake up properly. According to eye witness accounts (meaning Gwaine. And maybe Gwen. and Morgana…. And, yes, Leon as well, the absolute traitor, Arthur had seethed -- _he’s supposed to be **my** Knight, **Mer** lin, not yours!)_ Arthur had not left Merlin’s side for a second longer than absolutely necessary. Which meant that, one, the humming Merlin had heard? Was his Prince after all. Who had blushed all the shades of the sunset at hearing Merlin actually heard him. And two? That in the List of Things that are Important for Arthur, Merlin ranked higher than council meetings, Knight training, patrol and dinner with the king. 

After Merlin was finally fully coherent, Morgana had, while very much smirking, told him in great detail how the one and only time some nobleman had tried to pull Arthur from Merlin’s bedside, Arthur had threatened not only the dungeons but also bodily harm _and_ cease of assets.

“...and then he’d stated, and I’m using the word loosely, as, Merlin, dear, the only person that did _not_ hear what was said was the Old Man Genfrey down in the Low Town.”

Merlin had blinked, processed and snorted. “The deaf grandpa you mean?”

Morgana’s smirk, if that were possible, only grew. “Indeed. So, Arthur had very firmly stated that if anyone so much as _thought_ about disturbing him for anything less than a siege on the citadel, well… it wouldn’t end well for them.”

Merlin blushed. Morgana cooed. Arthur promptly tossed her out of their chambers.

~x~

“What is this?” Merlin asked curiously, putting down the goblet of wine and stepping closer to the fireplace to be able to inspect the thing placed into his hands better. “A sigil. It was my mother’s. It bears her crest.” Arthur looked… nervous as he said it, his hands going behind his back, where he no doubt was clutching at his wrists. Merlin had seen his hands shake as he had handed the wrapped bundle over after all.

“It’s a…” Merlin gulped. Couldn’t finish his sentence. Caught and held Arthur’s eyes instead.

“I thought it fitting,” the Crown Prince said quietly, his breath shaking a little.

“But…” Merlin was confused. He might have come from a small village, but he was friends with Gwen and, as such, with Morgana as well. Who took far too great a pleasure in torturing Merlin by teaching him the royal protocols and traditions and...

“Do you not want to accept it?” Arthur’s expression was closing off now, and Merlin had to choose his next words carefully.

“Isn’t that rather… official?” he asked, his throat dry, so dry he mourned the wine that was all the way over at the table.

“That’s the idea, _Mer_ lin. So, will you accept?” Arthur tried for cocky. He came out sounding unsure. Vulnerable even.

Merlin smiled, feeling something in his chest loosen. “I’ll accept. And I’ll wear it with pride. My Lord.”

Arthur beamed, moved as if to pull Merlin in, hug him, twirl him around, the way he was used to after they hadn’t seen each other for a while. He stopped a breath away, a frown marring his face. “I wish to celebrate, but I don’t want to hurt you further.”

Merlin leaned in and kissed him. Just lips on lips. Soft and slow and gentle. Arthur melted into the kiss, the lips on his missed, craved for, worried about. Merlin hummed, light fingertips on Arthur’s chest, pushing his Prince back back _back_ until the backs of his knees hit the edge of their bed.

“Merlin,” Arthur gasped, tumbling down, an admonishing look on his face. “We can’t, you’re---”

Merlin smirked, his eyes sparkling gold, and Arthur found himself sat against the headboard. He also found himself naked. Raising his eyebrow at Merlin, he tried to contain his smirk. “Eager, aren’t you?” But his worry must have still shone through, for Merlin huffed, rolled his eyes and climbed upon the bed too. By the time he was sat astride Arthur’s lap, he was naked as well.

“Yes, I hurt. No, you won’t hurt me. Just… We’ll have to be… a bit more careful than usual, that’s all.”

Arthur’s frown deepened. “Merlin…”

“Please.” Merlin blushed then, making Arthur blink at him in confusion. “It’ll actually… help. With the healing.”

“Sex magic… heals?” Arthur asked, completely bewildered.

Merlin groaned, hiding his burning face in Arthur’s neck. “Gods don’t just _say_ it, gah!”

Arthur chuckled. For all his power, Merlin was simply ridiculous. By the gods did he love him.

“Like this?” he asked instead, leaning in to place a gentle kiss under Merlin’s jaw as his hands ran soothing circles over his hipbones.

“Y-yeah, I---” Merlin gasped, his whole body trembling a little. “I can control the, _oh yes,_ right there, Ar _thur_ …” he sighed, summoned the little vial of their special oil absentmindedly and pressed it into his Prince’s hands.

Knowing better than to question his lover again, Arthur took the vial and set to easing the way with singlehanded determination.

Minutes later Merlin was writhing in his lap, little gasps of pleasure falling from his bitten, shining lips. “Now, now, Arthur, _please_ \---”

The Crown Prince hesitated - the last thing he wanted was to aggravate his sorcerer’s injuries---

Merlin huffed out a frustrated noise, his eyes glittering gold, and he raised upon his knees. “I’m _fine_ , you colossal prat.” And then he was lowering back down, and Arthur choked on his chuckle, hissed instead, his hands gripping Merlin’s hips hard enough to leave him bruised in a wholly familiar way.

Merlin’s eyelids fluttered closed, and he sighed in pleasure, wiggling a little before beginning to circle his hips in slight motions.

Arthur watched him, frozen, his own rising pleasure a mere background as his sorcerer began to _glow_ , the light coming from inside him, washing over them both, bathing them in ethereal looking sparkles. Arthur knew his jaw had fallen open in sheer awe at the sight, but he couldn’t help it, couldn’t find it in himself to care. Instead, he changed his grip on Merlin’s hips and helped him move, faster and harder, and then he was moving too, meeting his lover’s thrusts with snaps of his hips and ---

The glow was growing stronger as they continued to move. It was bright, so bright, and Arthur laughed, Merlin was like the sun, chasing all the shadows away and _by the gods, what a sappy fool I am for this man_ … And then Merlin was leaning in to kiss him and so they kissed and kissed and _kissed_ …

Afterwards, once the glow faded and the two men collapsed in a sated tangle of limbs, Arthur traced reverent fingers over silver lines across Merlin’s shoulders and back. Lines that had been raw and angry looking just hours before now looked like… silver paintings across his lover’s skin. Arthur felt a rather urgent need to kiss over each and every line.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, lips pressed soft against Merlin’s skin.

Merlin sighed, snuggled deeper into Arthur’s pillows and hummed when his Prince continued his gentle caresses for a long, long while.

~x~

"You cannot do this! To elevate the station of a _servant_ of all---"

The king of Camelot’s raging should not have been heard by anyone in the castle. After all, it was happening behind the closed doors of the private council chambers. Unluckily for the king, however, said doors hadn’t been closed _quite_ completely. So, as it would later turn out, _quite_ a few people had heard _quite_ a few things and as such, the entirety of the conversation between the king and the Crown Prince had circulated the castle by high noon of the same day.

"I can and I have.” Said Crown Prince had sounded far calmer than his father as he spoke. “And if you find yourself incapable of accepting it, I suggest you start thinking of someone else to succeed you. Like Morgana, for example. Because after what you've done to one of the most dedicated and most loyal members of _my_ household? I'm not quite sure I'm even willing to follow in your so-called footsteps and rule after you."

The king was turning rather puce in color at this point, the bravest of the guards had reported with far too much glee in _some_ peoples’ opinion.

"You cannot be serious---"

The Crown Prince, absolutely stoned-faced, ignored the bellows merrily, interrupting the ruling monarch yet again. "I am beyond serious, Your Majesty. Merlin is not only my most faithful advisor, but it's only thanks to him that I'm not dead a dozen times over as is. You either accept his change of status _and_ offer a very formal, very _public_ apology or you find yourself another heir."

~x~

Needless to say, the king did _not,_ in fact, apologize.

When the Crown Prince, however, was packed and leaving the next morning, his consort (for yes, Merlin had, after all, accepted the sigil _and_ promised to wear it and as such, _was_ wearing it) by his side, the king… yeah no, he still did nothing even remotely resembling an apology.

It took a better part of the year for the king to realise the Prince was not, in fact, going to be returning on his own.

It took yet another half a year for the king to manage to get over himself enough to begin _planning_ a searching party.

The king was then more than a little flabbergasted when the Knight Captain had informed him, quite calmly, that no search was necessary for he knew exactly where the Prince was. Had known from the start actually _and_ had received yet _another_ letter just last week, in fact.

The king, after yet another rage-fuelled rant, had written to his son. Reluctantly.

His son had written back. He was _not_ returning. He was, apparently, quite happy in the tiny little village of his _consort’s_ , working the fields and milking the cows and--- the king had torn the letter to pieces in a fit of blind rage.

Once called for, the Knight Captain had blinked at the king’s demand to ‘ride out and bring that blasted boy back, all cow milking bedamned!’. 

“I’ll ride out, sire, of course. His Highness had invited us over for a visit, after all, but, and I do beg your pardon sire, but… I won’t be able to bring him back against his will. You should know that better than anyone. Plowing the fields or not, Arthur Pendragon is a warrior born and bred. We would take heavy casualties and even if we did succeed in… taking him down, I very much doubt we would be able to do so without seriously injuring him in the process.”

The king snarled. The Knight Captain did not flinch.

“If I may be so bold, sire…” Leon swallowed down a smirk that was threatening to surface.

“Well, spit it out, why don’t you!” Uther roared, and Leon bowed his head, knowing that even if he did manage to control his lips, his eyes would be another matter.

“Why don’t you ride out with us?”

The king opened his mouth to yell. And then closed it, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.

~x~

“The Lady Morgana has refused the crown” were the first words king Uther Pendragon of Camelot said to his son after almost two years of not having seen him.

“Hullo, father,” Arthur had returned, leaning on a rake. “Fancy seeing you out this way. I do hope you stay for supper, Hunith makes the most delicious of crusted capons.”

Uther huffed, turning his nose up at the hut behind his son’s back.

But his scathing disapproval was merrily ignored as Arthur noticed the knights behind the king and went to greet them with a joyous whoop.

“You cannot control him any longer.” A soft voice rang out and Uther spun around to see that… that _man_ looking at him, a bucket of water in his hands. “And if you wish to have him back in your life, you better stuff your pride, come inside and help me with tea.” His smile was far too smug and far too bright when he winked -- _winked_ \-- at the seething king. “Arthur and me, you see, we’re a package deal. So if you can’t make me like you? Well.”

That night was henceforth remembered as the night that the king Uther Pendragon of Camelot was quite incapable of boiling up a pot of tea without spilling half of the scalding water upon his very royal person and then cursing up a storm so fierce the only woman in the house had smacked him upside the head from sheer shock.

Having gotten over the fact that a peasant had not only just _smacked_ him, but was also going on a very extensive scolding now, the king blinked.

This was… very strange. Feeling like his world had just tilted sideways a little he tried to catch his son’s gaze.

He was unable to, however, as his son was grinning a grin of the truly besotted as he leaned over his peasant’s hand and brushed a kiss over his knuckles.

 _Package deal indeed,_ the king thought ruefully, tuning out the scolding he was still receiving. _This’ll teach me to think before issuing a whipping again, huh?_

And, to the surprise of everyone, it actually _did._

~x~

**Author's Note:**

> comments feed me soul.  
> xoxoxo
> 
> also do be sure to check out the rest of submissions to our fest -  
> [MerlinTinyReverseBang2021](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/MerlinTinyReverseBang2021)


End file.
